Confessions of the Muggle-Born Snake
by alecui
Summary: Aicela Sirrah is the first ever muggle born witch to ever be placed in Slytherin. She must deal with societal pressures, friendships, a moody blonde boy, and her own emotions, along with an oncoming wizard war. The question isn't will she survive, but who and what will she be able to live with?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. Only thing I own is my OC Aicela Sirrah.

Chapter 1

People say that I should be cautious and I can understand why. I'm the first muggle-born to ever be placed in Slytherin. Truth is, I couldn't care less.

I have been a student at Hogwarts school for Witchcraft and Wizardry for about four years now, this being my fourth year. The first three had been nothing but constant bullying and torment from my fellow Slytherins until the end of third year when I decided to finally stand up for myself and not take any more shit about my blood status. Let's just say that if I did have a plan, absolutely nothing went according to it.

. . . . .

"Watch it, mudblood," Malfoy spits at me as he and his goons, Crabbe and Goyle, bump into me on purpose.

As I enter the Slytherin common room from the corridor outside, everyone gives me a look, a look I've come to recognize after three years of being at Hogwarts. Another four doesn't bother me. I ignore all the looks of disgust and hatred coming from my fellow housemates and make my way to my room, trying to seem impassive. However, I fail at my attempt to not seem like I care when one of Pansy Parkinson's little gossipers spits on me and it lands on my shoulder.

"Filthy mud-bitch!" Pansy growls as I keep walking to my room. I wonder sometimes if I could trade places with Hermione Granger.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I don't like to eat in the Great Hall that much since it would mean actually sitting with my housemates. My mom decided that after all the bullying from the previous three years she would pack a ton of tub-a-ware in my trunks. This morning I was particularly hungry after hearing Millicent Bulstrode and her friends gab nearly all night about the announcement of the Triwizard tournament champions last night, so I decided to grab some breakfast and go. I walk up to the very end of the Slytherin table closest to the doors, makes for a quicker get away, and pull a container out of my bag, big enough for eggs, bacon, and some toast. After silently filling the container I close it up, place it in my back pack.

"Look, she thinks she's too good to sit and eat with us."

I turn towards the middle of the table and see Crabbe with a half-smile, half-sneer pointed at me, along with Goyle and other dunderheads with their noses scrunched up as if they've smelled feces that's been trapped in a box for a few hours and finally opened. I roll my eyes at them and when I hear a voice I know all too well,

"Good riddance, we wouldn't want her defiling our house any more than she already is. Isn't that right, Draco?" Pansy Parkinson squeaks as she clings to Draco Malfoy's arm. He looks in my direction without actually looking at me before looking back down at his plate in an impassive manner.

"As if, she's not good enough for anything. She just knows that she doesn't belong here. I don't see why that stupid hat put her in our house in the first place," he sneers before looking at me in the eye. Half of the Slytherin table laughs as I leave with my breakfast, trying to hide the hurt from Malfoy's comment about me not being good enough.

Since it's a Saturday, I angrily march down to the Black Lake and sit beneath a tree that grows alone close the edge of the water. With a huff I aggressively chew my breakfast and look out onto the water, letting the sounds of nature calm me down. After a few moments of peace, my skin begins to crawl as I sense someone nearby. There is a rustle in the branches above me and I smile.

"Good morning, Luna. Enjoying the view?" I look up and see my closest, and probably only, friend. I met Luna Lovegood back in second year when I was running from the castle towards the lake after Marcus Flint had called my mom a filthy muggle whore and told me that we were both better off dead. She was just like how she is now, hanging upside down among the branches in this tree. She had offered me what no one else at Hogwarts had, compassion, and a few licorice wands. Since that day, I have always come to this tree when in need of company and friendship and Luna has been there every time.

"Good morning, Aicela. The view is rather nice, not many nargles about today. No flapjacks today?" she asks in that knowing tone that she uses when she hints that something is wrong. I've always been intrigued by her uncanny ability to say something without actually saying it, indirectly making it the topic of conversation.

"No," I sigh heavily, "today's more of a toast day."

"Pity. Perhaps if it were quiet like it is now, it would have been a flapjack day."

"Perhaps, come down here. I've brought you some toast too, you know." Luna gracefully moves from branch to branch before she lands softly beside me. She reaches into her bags and pulls out a licorice wand and offers one to me in exchange for the slice of toast I hand to her. We eat in silence for a few minutes before she speaks.

"You shouldn't let them get to. They're just unsure on how to interact with you."

"I know, I know. My mom always says that silly phrase about sticks and stones, but sometimes what they say actually hurts." I stare at the lake and how the water seems to shine, reflecting the sun light before looking at Luna. She's fiddling with the necklace her mom gave her before she passed away and I look away from her face, feeling strange as I think about what it must feel like to lose my mom. While deep in thought about life without the only family member that's been a constant in my life, I gaze down at Luna's feet and notice that her feet are bare. I frown as I recall that some of her house mates have been pulling pranks on her as a form of amusement. I let out a frustrated groan and look at Luna's face.

"Doesn't it bother you? They're your bloody house mates! You would think that they would have some decency to not act like jerks just because you're different."

"I suppose you would think that," she says as she raises an eyebrow to remind me that I've vented about my problems by using hers to cover mine, again. And with that comment, I lose my appetite.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sometimes when I need peace from my thoughts, or away from them, there are two places in the entire castle that I deem to be sanctuaries. One of them being the library. I find comfort in wandering up and down the aisles or following the floating books as they return to their spots on the shelves. Occasionally, I'll find a good read from the vast shelves of magical history and lore, however, I miss young adult section of the library I would call home during the summers away from school. My first year at Hogwarts mom had packed plenty of books for me to read in my spare time but since I was so overwhelmed with learning magic and avoiding bullies, I barely touched a single one of them. We had agreed this year that if I ever needed a book I would sent her a letter letting her know and have it delivered to me. I'm so deep in my thoughts of missing home and my mom that I don't take notice to where I'm going and bump into someone while wandering down the aisles. Blinking back into the present I see that the library is practically full of stressed students, most likely procrastinators that have assignments due on Monday. Young witches and wizards that seem overwhelmed and tired are scrambling around trying to find the right texts to do their research and homework and it produces a hum of stress that's a bit too loud for my taste. I leave the library and head towards my other sanctuary.

The astronomy tower has some of the most wonderful views to draw. The beautiful scenery of the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest mixed with the architecture of the castle create the perfect muse for artistic inspiration. The quiet is so welcoming that sometimes, when I'm completely engulfed into my drawing and sketching, I forget that the rest of the world still moves and turns around me. When I draw I go to a place in my mind where every thought runs wild and free and yet, at the same time, I have no thoughts at all. I enter a form of trance, only broken when I'm extremely tired, hungry, have to use the loo, or in rare circumstances that there are people around, someone is standing over my shoulder. I'm currently filling my sketchbook with sketches of owls, studying their anatomy from their eyes and beaks, to their wings and heads and how their necks turn in an almost complete circle, even the talons are drawn with details and notes. I'm in the middle of drawing the face of a barn owl when I sense someone standing right behind me looking over my shoulder at my book. For a moment, I freeze, afraid of the inevitable criticism of my art, heart pounding in my chest.

"Not bad."

Shocked by the compliment, I look up to see the last person I ever thought would ever compliment anyone, let alone my art. Malfoy is leaning so closely over my shoulder that he is a mere few inches from touching my head with his chin, staring intently at the sketch covered pages in my book. I trap my tongue to keep from gasping as I stare at Malfoy since he is closer than I've ever been near him before. I can see why Pansy clings to his arm like her life depends on it whenever they're around a large group of girls. He has an expected attractiveness that comes with being a pureblood, at least that's what I hear from all the girls in my house. Apparently, in pureblood society, it's best to look attractive so that their parents can have a better time arranging for them to be married to whoever their parents deem as the best option. It's such a shame that as good looking as Malfoy is, he's still a complete asshole and I huff in disappointment at this thought.

Malfoy blinks as if to remind himself of where he is and who's shoulder he is leaning over. After backing away a few feet and looking anywhere but at me, he frowns and looks at the spot on the floor next to me.

"What!" he snaps, "I said not bad . . . for a mudblood."

I roll my eyes at his insult and wish that he and everyone else in Slytherin would stop bringing up my blood status day in and day out. Then I wonder why he hasn't left yet, usually and encounter between the two of us is over in less than fifteen seconds. Just a quick insult from him as I roll my eyes and walk away, rarely stopping to retaliate in caution of the ever present threat that his father will harm me, or worse my mother. Shaking my head, I remind myself that it's none of my business and go back to my sketches. After about half an hour, I hear sniffling behind me from across the room. I turn around and see Malfoy with his back to me, arms and head resting on his knees while his shoulders shake a little every time he sniffles. I notice that his back and shoulders are tense, a sign that he's trying to hide the fact that he's bothered, something I do all too well. Asshole or not, I decide against my better judgement, pull out the pack of licorice wands from my bag and walk over to him. Crouching down beside him I offer a wand to him, earning a look of shock, before he slaps my hand away in disgust.

"I don't you pity, you _filthy mudblood_!" he barks.

I take a deep breath before saying, "Compassion and pity are two completely different things, Malfoy."

"What?" his face holding a look of complete confusion. I sigh heavily.

"Unlike the other Slytherins you are used to, I am being nice for the sake of being nice, not to get something out of you."

"Bollocks," he retorts in disbelief.

"Believe it or not, it's the truth. It's who I am," I reply with a shrug.

"An inferior mudblood trait no doubt."

And with that comment I walk over to my things, leaving the pack of licorice wands for him, and pack my things. I take one last look at him before I shake my head and leave. So much for getting peace with my thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The day after my encounter with Malfoy, I spent most of my time avoiding the other Slytherins for the simple fact that I do not want to deal with any harassment for interacting with him. However, when the rest of the school ostracizes you for being in Slytherin it's a bit difficult to truly get away from the harassment. It seems as if the entire school wants me to poof out of existence, even though I am muggle born. In an attempt to get away from people I run from the castle to my tree by the lake. As I sit in the shade offered by the branches above me I notice blond hair hanging down, mixing with the green of the leaves.

"Why not sit with me at the Ravenclaw table? That way you won't be so lonely," Luna says in that tone that means she knows exactly what is wrong.

"No, thank you," I sigh. "I've caused enough house turmoil as it is. I wouldn't want to start a war over seating arrangements." I stare out at the lake and become lost in my thoughts and soon my mind is blank, a calming emptiness to wrap myself in to forget about the events of the past few days.

"Pity," Luna chimes, breaking me out of my mental shell. I stare at her with a raised brow, hoping that she will elaborate on what exactly she means by that. She instead, stares out at the lake with a small smile.

"Luna?" I move my face in front of hers so that she has to look at me, preferably in the eye.

"It's better than Neville's original idea of you sitting at the Gryffindor table," she replies in a matter of fact tone.

"Neville! As in Longbottom?" I ask in shock, slightly raising my voice. I have never personally met Longbottom, only having the coincidence of being in the same classroom together. Why would he be concerned with where I sit? More importantly, why is he thinking about me in the first place? Then I come to a realization. Luna is friends with him, so the only way he would even have me in his train of thought is. . . I glare at Luna even though she seems not to notice. "What did you tell him?"

"Just the truth," she replies with a shrug. The truth, meaning I am a lonely muggle born that doesn't belong anywhere in Hogwarts. The truth being that I made a mistake back when I was eleven in deciding to take that risk and come here. I look back up at Luna, hanging upside down from the branches and decide to think about something else.

"The blood rush doesn't bother you?"

"Not really, it's quite relaxing once you get used to it."

"Maybe I'll join you. My mom always said that I shouldn't knock new things until I try them," I smile at her.

"It would be a nice change in atmosphere."

After climbing up beside her and situating myself to be upside down as well I think for a moment about how we aren't just talking about hanging from a tree and I start to smile. Maybe, sometimes, it just takes a different perspective. "You know what Luna? I think you're right."

Thinking about the advice mom would give me as a kid and trying to follow Luna's example, I ignore all the stares and whispers and eat my breakfast at the Ravenclaw table. Sitting next to Luna, I'm facing the Slytherin table, which was very strategic on Luna's part. I'm in the middle of enjoying a flapjack when I hear Pansy's voice squeal across the Great Hall so that all can hear her.

"How dare she! First she sneaks her way into Slytherin, contaminating it with her filth. Now she has the gall to sit at another table! As if anyone would want her around in the first place!" I stare back down at my plate in an attempt to show that I don't care what anyone says. There is a flash of light coming from the direction of my house's table and I look up to see Pansy with her wand out and her face squished into a deep frown. Then I notice Luna placing her wand on the table next to her cup of juice and finishing the toast on her plate. Laughter begins to erupt around the hall and I look back at Pansy and notice that her hair is falling out exactly in the middle of her head, leaving a bald stripe from front to back. A few people are staring at Luna, which is understandable since in the three years I've known her, she has never raised her wand at _anyone_. I'm certainly glad that I had gotten out of bed this morning.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I had honestly forgotten about the Triwizard Tournament over the past few weeks until I overheard Malfoy complaining about Harry being a champion in the common room. I never really much cared for Quiditch, or any other sport for that matter, so it is no surprise that I would forget about the one topic that has been on everyone's minds since the start of term. I am surprised, however, that I forgot when I see students from Beaubatons and Durmstrang practically every day.

"You know that people are actually going to cheer on Potter!" I turn from my corner in the common room to see Malfoy lounging on the sofa in front of the large fire place, his back facing my direction. I look around to see that Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy are surrounding him like moths to a flame, eagerly hanging on every word that comes out of his mouth. Rolling my eyes at the scene, I turn back to my books and try to finish writing my assignment for Professor Snape that is due in a few days. However, it is hard to concentrate when a certain someone decides to complain as loud as possible so that everyone in the room pays attention to him and him alone.

"Honestly! You'd think that Hogwarts has become the official Potter fan club with the way these dolts are behaving! The bloody cheat just wants to keep his name in the limelight, if you ask me," he adds in an annoyed tone. Once again I roll my eyes as I gather my books and head up to my room, since I know I will not get any work done sitting in the common room, listening to Malfoy drone on about how terrible Harry Potter is.

"Luna, this is not a good idea. I'm going to go back to my dorm," I whine as I turn around and try to head back to the castle. Luna grabs my arm and pulls me right beside her and continues to drag me down to the arena for the first task. I groan out loud in frustration, hoping that Luna will understand and let me run away. No such luck. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her holding a wide grin as she pulls me closer to the stands. A few feet ahead of us, Fred and George Weasely are calling out bids on each champion. I smile in amusement at how no matter how serious the situation may seem, those two are always making light of it. I begin to walk faster than Luna, pulling her behind me, as I head straight towards the twins. Pulling two Sickles out of my pocket, I hand them towards one of them, I can never tell which is which. Both stare at me in astonishment and shock for a moment before both grin and one take the coins.

"And who will you be betting on today miss?" one of them starts.

"Perhaps the Hogwarts favorite Cedric Diggory?" the other finished. I scoffed at his suggestion.

"No," I replied with confidence, "I am betting on Harry Potter to complete the task in fifteen minutes." Both of them quizzically raise their eyebrows while collecting money from other students.

"Never thought I'd see the day."

"When a Slytherin roots for Harry," they both hold mischievous grins on their faces and share _a look_ that I suppose is only between them.

Lifting my chin, I look at both of them and say, "Don't you know? I am a different breed of Slytherin," and with that comment I grab Luna's hand and pull her towards the stands.

All the excitement from the first task has gotten everyone riled up and running around with big smiles. There is hardly a part of the castle that isn't flooded with students gabbing on about the champions and how amazing they are, especially the library. I am surprised Madam Pince doesn't just cast a silencing spell over the library, or better yet, just close it for the day. I was hoping to go there, be alone in my thoughts, hiding in some far corner in the library while I study for a few classes. However, with all the chit chat going on, I see that it is impossible and head up to the Astronomy tower.

Upon entering the room, I notice that I am alone and for that I am thankful. I sit on one of the balconies with a view of the Black Lake and pull out my sketchbook since I am no longer in the mood to study. After about half an hour of being well engrossed in an anatomical study of cats, sketching body parts, facial features, and writing notes here and there, I feel a presence over my shoulder. I turn to see Malfoy standing far enough to see my book without being too close to me. Perhaps it is because he remembers my blood status. I let out an annoyed sigh. Ever since I was little I have always disliked the feeling of people watching me draw over my shoulder. Glaring at Malfoy I tell him, "If this is going to become a habit of yours, might I suggest that you sit down for a better view?"

"If me looking over your shoulder so much bothers you then you can just leave," he retorts. After a few seconds he spits out the word _mudblood_ , possibly hoping to rile me up and I roll my eyes at his weak and overplayed attempt.

"No."

"Excuse me? What did you say?" he asks in shock with his face holding an expression as if someone asked him to run through the castle naked.

"I said no," I stare at him with determination, letting him know that I will not back down.

"Why not?"

"Because I do as I please," I say with all the confidence in my body.

"Oh really?" I look at him again and see the same suspicious smirk that he uses before he does something despicable. I wish he would just go away and leave me back to my drawing. I am not in the mood for dealing with his foolishness.

"Yes," I groan out in frustration, "now if you would please leave or sit quietly that would be lovely."

"Well as you so eloquently put it, 'I do as I please' and I and not going anywhere."

I really want to smack that smirk off of his face but for the simple fact that I do not want to deal with any consequences, especially any that would involve his father doing something to make my or my mom's life difficult, I go back to drawing in my sketchbook. To my surprise he actually sits down a few feet away from me but close enough to still see into my sketchbook. It is not long before the clock chimes, letting me know that it is time for dinner. Malfoy still hasn't left and out of curiosity I turn to look at him. To my astonishment, he is sleeping on his back. Suddenly my stomach begins to growl and I ignore it and continue to draw since I have started an elaborate drawing of a Siamese cat and I want to see it through to the end.

It's eight thirty when Malfoy wakes with a start and looks around the room as if he as forgotten where he is and for a moment I see a hint of fear on his face. Then he turns and looks at me and frowns.

"Why didn't you wake me?" he asks in a tone that sounds more like a demand.

"Do I look like Pansy or your mother?" I scoff, "what you do is your business not mine."

After throwing me nasty glare he gets up to leave and right as he approaches the door he turns to look back at me. I raise an eyebrow and slowly reach for my wand in case he decides to try anything, like getting revenge for Pansy.

"What is it?" I ask in suspicion.

"Mudbloods don't eat?" he asks in a snarky tone.

His question throws me off for a moment before I can think of a smart aleck reply so I decide to answer his question with a question.

"Why? Are you worried about me?" I smile as I say this knowing that it will annoy him that I am not fazed by his use of the word _mudblood_.

"No," he spits back, "it just looks better for Slytherin when the house members sit at their own table."

"Well unless I am mistaken, my presence is unwelcome at _our_ table." I sigh and look at the view of the lake. The sun has already set and now the sky is becoming dark and the stars are beginning to shine. While I am still enjoying my view I add, "Besides, I wouldn't want to 'defile' the house any more than I already have." Perhaps recalling what Pansy had said the other day will make him understand why I will _not_ be sitting at the Slytherin table any time soon.

"Just saying that it might lessen the bullying and pranks. Hell! It might even get Parkinson off your back," he says with a raised eyebrow and then proceeds to head out the door. Even though we have been in the same house for over three years, this is the first civil conversation I have ever had with Malfoy, excluding the use of that foul word. I am shocked that instead of cursing or threatening me, he offers advice. I am even more shocked at the fact that I am taking that advice and packing my things so that I can sit my housemates in an attempt to enjoy dinner.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I suppose that there are a few perks to being the first muggle-born Slytherin. Back in first year I had some not so great experiences with my fellow housemates, most of which involved the destruction of my sketchbooks, clothes, and other personal belongings. My mom being the overprotective "mama bear" she is, insisted to speak to Dumbledore himself about his lack of intolerance for bullying. Instead, she spoke with Professor McGonagall and to my surprise they both agreed that the amount of harassment was unacceptable. Mom had even considered pulling me out of Hogwarts and sending me to a boarding school back in London while she worked in the U.S. However, after what seemed like hours of crying and begging, because learning that I was a witch and that there was an entire hidden world full of magic available to me, she finally caved in and decided that in order to let me stay, "drastic measures" had to be taken. Drastic measures being a private room outside of the Slytherin dormitories where I could be safe from harassment, the only people with access to the room besides myself being Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape. Doing this, however, caused my housemates to harbor more negative feelings towards me and I decided that it would be for the best if I never used that room unless absolutely necessary.

Which brings me to my private room now, sitting on my floor contemplating tonight's events. Like an idiot, I followed Malfoy's advice and sat at the Slytherin table. Since no one in my house likes me enough to even be aquaintences I decided to sit at the very end of the table closest to the doors and to avoid awkward eye contact, doodled in my sketchbook while I ate. Unfortunately, this was a terrible mistake because after five minutes of silent eating, Pansy decided to cause a scene.

"Look at her! Trying to act like she doesn't see us! Who the bloody hell does she think she is?" Pansy yells for all in the Great Hall to hear her. Everyone silently stares at the scene at our table. I kept eating in silence, hoping that she will just drop it and leave me alone. Sadly, my wish doesn't come true, for she and her group of followers stomp over to my end of the table. I continue to draw as Pansy pulls at my hair, mocking my dark brown coils and calling my hair a crow's nest, and my clothes, trying to find some way to get under my skin. Apparently I had given her exactly that. She takes my sketchbook and throws it to one of her cronies. I reach for it and the girl throws it to someone else and soon it becomes a game of monkey in the middle. After a few moments, I'm about to catch it when it suddenly bursts into flames and turns to ash. I turn around and see that Pansy had been the one to set it aflame. What angered me further was the she snuggles up to Draco to celebrate and he just smirks like he couldn't be prouder even if he did it himself. I felt so betrayed, which made no sense since I knew that he would never care about me, but for one brief moment I believed that we had at least met on a mutual understanding, a treaty per say. Which is why tears began to flood from my eyes like rivers overflowing after a storm, and I run from the Great Hall to get away from Pansy.

From Draco.

From my so called housemates.

From everyone.

From the world.

Once in the safety of my private room, I cried for what seemed like hours. Not so much over the lost sketchbook, since I had brought a whole trunk full at the beginning of term, but more so at my sheer stupidity. And then I made the decision, that I would never be so naïve. That I would never trust a Slytherin again.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

On Saturday I sit beneath the tree by the lake, frustrated that I cannot think of anything to draw. After the other night, I hid in my special room and grab a new sketchbook from the trunk that I brought from home. I am furiously tapping my pencil against the pages of my sketchbook when I hear footsteps approaching behind me. I rush to hide my sketchbook when a familiar voice calms me down.

"It's only us, Aicela," Luna calls out.

I turn to greet her when I notice two others walking alongside her. The first I instantly recognize as Neville Longbottom, the second however, is a face that I never thought I would see extremely up close unless I truly made her angry.

"Aicela, this is Neville and Hermione."

I stare at the huge mound of curls that I have heard so much about and think about how it's similar to mine, except my curls are more like dark chocolate coils. Hermione must notice me staring at her because she holds out her hand and says, "Nice to meet you," with a smile.

I start to reach for her hand but hesitate and pull my hand back to my side.

"It's alright, she won't bite," Neville chuckles out with a smile.

"I understand. I just do not . . . I don't think that this . . . um," I stammer.

"Neville, it's fine. After what happened the other night, I think she just feels uncomfortable with trusting new people."

I stare at the ground in awkwardness and silently pray that these three don't hate me. The past few days, I have tried to avoid thinking about the disaster that happened the other night. Having someone, let alone Hermione Granger, bring it up is still painful. She must have noticed the embarrassed look on my face because she elbows Neville, who pulls a book out of his bag and hands it to me.

"There's a vine that acts as a lock and a spell barrier that you could read about in the book," Neville shrugs awkwardly. Meanwhile, Luna is occupied with climbing the tree. As she gets higher and higher among the branches, I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Hermione right behind me.

"If you want, I could show you a spell that duplicates your sketches to another notebook. I use it all the time for my notes for class." I look her in the eyes and find kindness in them and smile. Perhaps this won't be such a bad school year after all.

"Do you know how to dance, Aicela?" Neville asks while he's admiring my sketches as he sits beside me. Hermione and Luna brought up the Yule Ball and how it is a good experience for everyone. Hermione goes on to explain how McGonagall was holding dancing lessons for Griffyndor house.

"Not formally," I answer and turn to look at Neville who is currently fascinated by a sketch I did of a wimping willow. I smile at his fascination for herbology and consider doing something that I never do. "You know Neville, if you want to keep that sketch you can."

"What?" he asks in shock, "Are you sure about this? Your sketchbook is precious to you. Well, it seems like it is. I mean, not that I stare at you or something, I just-."

"Neville, it's fine," I interrupt him so he doesn't have to stumble over his words. After a few moments of silence, he clears his throat.

"How about we have a trade? I'll teach you to waltz in place of the sketch. However, I have to be honest, I'm not that good either," He says sheepishly.

"If it's no trouble for you then sure," I reply with a smile. The bell chimes that it's time for dinner and everyone else gathers their things and I pack my belongings much slower so that they go ahead without me. Unfortunately, that plan does not work out, as Luna turns around and raises an eyebrow at me. However, it's Neville who asks the question that I have been trying to avoid.

"Aicela, aren't you coming?" Hermione stops and turns to face me while Luna just looks towards the lake.

"I'd rather not."

"Why not just sit with Luna? Or Hermione and I? Surely, they'll leave you alone if you"

"NEVILLE!" Hermione yells, "Can't you see that she doesn't want to talk about it?"

He looks at me in complete and utter shock, horrified that he brought up the situation. His face then turns apologetic and he mumbles out an apology. I mumble back that it's fine and run back to the astronomy tower, a place that I have not visited in days. I only hope that the one person I don't want to see isn't there.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Lo and behold, when I walk into the astronomy tower, Malfoy is there. He is leaning nonchalantly against the railing of the balcony and turns to look at me as I walk further into the room. I choose to ignore him when he calls out to me and continue to walk to the opposite side of the room, head held high. I _will not_ give him the satisfaction of knowing that I am still upset about the other night. With my back towards him, I cautiously pull out my new sketchbook and pencil and begin to draw different animals hanging upside down. After about half an hour of being amused at my drawings I hear footsteps approaching me from behind. I look over my shoulder expectantly, frantically hiding my sketchbook as Malfoy saunters up to me. He reaches for his jacket pocket and I instantly reach for my wand, ready to defend myself.

"Calm down, will you?" he demands. "I'm not here to fight you." He makes a gesture of surrender before resuming to reach inside his pocket. I raise my brow in suspicion as he pulls out a pack of licorice wands and a notebook. He pauses for a moment as if to contemplate what he wants to do with his items. "I owe you nothing now," he yells as he tosses them both on the ground and walks away towards the door.

I ponder for a moment about what he means by "owing" me. When had there been a debt to pay to begin with? Glancing at the notebook, I notice that it looks oddly familiar. I hesitantly open it and see my drawings and as I go through the pages, I realize that this is my sketchbook. The one that Pansy destroyed. My first feeling is astonishment at how he recovered it but I remind myself that I am a witch, he is a wizard, and we are at a school that teaches magic. My next emotion is shock that he took the time to recover it in the first place. I keep flipping through the pages just to make sure that every last sketch is there when I reach the last page that I drew on. A folded scrap of parchment falls out and lands on my lap and I open it to read:

 _Be more careful next time_

I chuckle at myself and open the pack of licorice wands. I contemplate on my previous thoughts from a few nights ago about how despicable and vile Malfoy is for letting his vexing bubblehead destroy my sketchbook. Perhaps he is not as "evil" as everyone perceives him. Perhaps I should wait before judging a person so harshly. Even if they did hurt me emotionally.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

It has not even been two days since I met Hermione and she is already starting to bother me. I am grateful that she is nice to me and wants to be my friend. However, these past few days, she has followed me around the castle much like a stray dog follows a stranger that feeds them. From the way she is acting, I figure that she is trying to establish a friendship by the end of the week. I am not opposed to being friends with her since we do have a few things in common: curly hair that's hard to tame, muggleborn, very interested in learning about anything magical, and a sense to prove that we do deserve our magic despite what certain others say. Unfortunately, due to her constant smothering, I feel somewhat uneasy whenever she finds me and clings to my side, as if leaving me alone for five minutes would be dangerous to our friendship.

In an attempt to have time to myself, I try to use the excuse that I have to study. A part of me should have known that it was the worst possible excuse to use when dealing with _the_ Hermione Granger. She instantly suggests that we go to the library so that she can give me studying tips. I humor her and head towards the library, pull out my herbology textbook, and attempt to focus on the words on the page. Sadly, instead of a comfortable silence I can enjoy and look over my notes, my ears are greeted with the sound of Hermione rapidly whispering new methods of note taking and how to better improve marks in all my classes. I try to bare the onslaught of information for the sake of sparing her feelings, but after a few minutes of hearing her gasp between every few sentences, I explode.

"JESUS CHRIST, HERMIONE! Just stop! I know you mean well but is it possible for me to have an hour or two to myself? I understand that you want us to be friends, I feel the same. But I also think that friends should be capable of having time apart and still being close. I didn't want to hurt your feelings and I don't want to lie to you either. If telling you the truth makes you hate me then I'll live with that. Just please, let me be for a bit. Please?"

My outburst caused many around us to pause in their studies and stare at the scene I started. Madame Pince even threw and icy glare our way, as if asking if I needed to be thrown out of her sanctuary. I look back at Hermione to see stunned shock spread across her face. To avoid seeing disappointment and hatred form in her features, I pack my belongings and run towards to doors. Once I am in the corridor I feel a hand grab me by the elbow and turn me around. I try to pull away, closing my eyes and wishing that disappear from the turmoil I just created.

"Aicela stop!"

I turn and open my eyes to her voice and see a softened sadness in her expression. She exhales and shakes her head before looking me in the eyes.

"I don't hate you. I know I can be, a bit much according to Ron. I didn't mean to make you feel overwhelmed and I understand completely how you need some time to yourself. It's fine. Trust me," she tells me with a small smile. I'm still worried that she might secretly hate me and I suppose that she can see it on my face because she hugs me. Actually pulls me in to hug me. And when she lets go she looks me in the eye, gives my hand a squeeze and smiles. "Go."

"Thank you," I say as I squeeze her hand back and return her smile. After knowing that I did not completely botch a still forming friendship, I happily walk to my tower of peace and quiet to enjoy some much needed alone time.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

As I sit in the owlery, a grey barn owl swoops in through one of the open archways and lands gracefully on the perch next to me. I look at the envelope lodged in its beak and see my name. I give the beautiful bird a few strokes on its feathers until it releases the letter. Immediately, I recognize my mother's handwriting and hastily tear open the envelope as I grow giddy with excitement. The last time I had seen my mother was at the beginning of term when she saw me off at the station. I tear up a little as I remember that she is in the United States while I am in school.

The first few paragraphs of her letter are filled with longing and disappointment since I promised to write more frequently this year and I have only written her twice in a few months. The next paragraph is about how her new position at the company is "interesting", which isn't a word I would use for an executive position in a car company. She goes on to explain how rude some of her coworkers are compared to the ones back in England. Her description of them makes me laugh and I grow nostalgic at how I've come to miss her jokes, no matter how corny they are. She would always use humor to ease the pain of us eventually being apart again. Her job always requires her to travel often and she was relieved to know that Hogwarts was a sort of boarding school where I would be safe while she was off working.

After a few moments I wipe away my tears and compose myself, or fixing my face as she would put it, to finish reading her letter. I turn the page over to read the back when I notice that she sent two pages and when I pull them apart, money slips between the sheets. I wonder why she would send me money when she gave me plenty of school and art supplies to last the entire year. I find my answer in the next paragraph, explaining how upset she is that I did not tell her about the Yule Ball. She is also excited that there is an opportunity for me to be dolled up and that I will have to stop being "anti-social" for at least a few weeks. The next few bits of the letter are about how she wishes she could be there for this "oh so important" time of my life, that I am "blossoming into a beautiful flower" and no parent should have to miss it. I make a mental note to remind her in my response that it's fine that she isn't, otherwise I would have to undergo the torture of her taking hundreds of pictures of me in front of everyone.

Her last part explains that she wants me to take someone with me to go dress shopping because no girl should be alone when she finds "the dress", which I think applies more so to wedding gowns. She also expresses how much she misses and loves me. I smile at her signature and whisper, "I love you too."

"Aw, isn't that disgusting," someone squeals behind me, breaking me out of my peaceful state of mind. I turn and see Pansy leaning in the doorway, silently judging me as she looks me up and down with a sneer and I slowly reach into my pocket for my wand in case the situation goes south.

"Writing to your muggle boyfriend? Telling him how mean I am?" she mocks with a fake pout.

"Why would I waste my time writing about a spoiled whiny brat like you?" I retort.

Pansy snarls as she reaches for her wand, unfortunately for her, I already had mine out and disarmed her, launching her wand into my hand.

"How dare you!" she growls.

"What's the matter Pansy?" I mock with the same pout she gave me, "Mudblood got your wand?" her entire face and neck became the shade of a ripe red tomato and I can sense that she is one the very edge of her temper. One more move and I can cause her to have a tantrum. I love knowing that even though she sees herself as queen of the Slytherin social scene, I can still best her when it comes wits and control. I use the tip of her wand to scratch my scalp and just as I expected, she launches herself at me and I move to the side. She falls onto a pile of fresh owl droppings on the floor and screeches in disgust.

"You bitch! You'll pay for this!" she screams as she throws me her iciest glare.

"We'll see," I scoff as I walk away, stopping for a moment to toss her wand onto the floor. This is one of the few moments that I thoroughly enjoy being a bit crueler to people. As I walk towards the astronomy tower I reflect on how good it felt to see her on the floor cover in owl dung and realize that I am becoming the stigma that all the other houses view. I have to be more careful with how I act towards people, especially my enemies. Otherwise, I'm no better than Pansy.


	11. Changes in perspective

Hello all!

Sorry I haven't been updating as much as I should. I have been busy with school and work. I have been writing the chapters in a binder and have about twenty or so chapters ahead in notes and planning. However, I'm wondering if I should change the writing perspective from first person to third person omniscient. I would have to rewrite the chapters that are already up while writing the current chapters. Before I do this, I would like all of your feedback. Do you enjoy the current writing style; does it irritate you? Leave a review to tell me what you think.


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